


A Significant Acquaintance

by angelsaves



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, Podfic Welcome, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, this is set in vaguely old-timey days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 08:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12552992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: This is a silly story about Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir being platonic soulmates in a vaguely old-timey days "historical" AU.





	A Significant Acquaintance

Tara is ten years old when her soulmark develops, sitting bored in lessons, daydreaming of the day when the pond will finally freeze over and her governess will take her skating. All of a sudden, she feels a sharp sting on her left arm; looking down, she sees the name _Johnny_ in flourishing script, covering the inside of her arm from her wrist halfway to her elbow. The tail of the _y_ swoops up and through the other letters, and the _J_ is crowned with its own extra loop, as if it is wearing a hat. Absorbed, Tara traces the fine, dark lines with her forefinger, and doesn't notice that the room has quieted until Mr. Hedican is standing directly in front of her desk, waiting. 

"Oh, I see," the tutor says, voice warmer than Tara expects. "Well, this is a happy day! Congratulations, Miss Lipinski."

"Thank you, sir." Tara is pleased. She hopes her Johnny will love to skate as much as she does. On the pond in her imagination, she skates hand-in-hand with a Mysterious Young Man, around and around and around...

***

When Johnny is eight years old, he practices his penmanship every day, making it as beautiful as he possibly can. In the middle of a line -- _ZZZZZZZ_ \-- he feels an odd tickle on his left arm, and it doesn't go away when he blows on it, as it would if it were a fly. He looks down, and there are faint marks coming in, like freckles. He hopes they are freckles; Michael, the boy who lives next door, has freckles, and Johnny _adores_ them. They're going to get married one day, Johnny has decided.

But the marks aren't freckles. They grow into lines instead of constellations, and no matter how hard Johnny concentrates, he can't make them spell _Michael_ instead of _Tara_. He's _inconsolable_ , and even the little heart Tara evidently adds to her signature can't bring joy back to his soul.

He marches to his mother in her sitting room and holds out his arm as if it is something offensive he has found. "It's _wrong_ ," he tells her. "It's supposed to have Michael's name on it, and instead it's some _girl!_ "

"Oh, darling," his mother says soothingly, clasping his fingers with hers. "You've got exactly the name you were supposed to have. You'll see -- you'll love your Tara in a very different way from how you love Michael now."

Years later, Johnny will have to concede that this was true.

***

As she grows older, Tara attempts to put together an image of her Johnny in her mind. His signature marks him as of a similar social background to hers: the Lipinskis are fairly middle-of-the-road, subscribing to neither the school of thought that insists every child have a completely unique name nor the one that forbids even differentiating handwriting as second-guessing the will of the stars. He'll be handsome, of course, and have a taste for the finer things. She pictures the swirls and loops around his name as the tracemarks of blades on ice, confident that anyone whose soul is a match for hers would have to be an excellent skater.

Her governess, Kristi, is a close friend now; this pleases Tara not just because she enjoys feeling mature enough to have a friend more experienced in life, but because she fancies herself partly responsible for Kristi finding her soulmate. The _Bret_ scrawled across Kristi's wrist had, one day, suddenly reminded Tara of her tutor's handwriting on her essays, and she'd managed to conveniently forget to remind her governess that she had to stay late one day, just to see if she and Mr. Hedican would like each other. They had, a great deal; more to the point, to Tara's mind, the neat scallops of Mr. Hedican's -- _Bret_ Hedican's -- soulmark spelled _Kristi_.

The two young women spend less time together now that Tara is too old to need a governess and Kristi has a new charge, but the time they do have is enjoyable. It was Kristi who, in a light tone over tea, told Tara that there was nothing wrong with experimenting before one met one's soulmate. "There's so much to learn about love," Kristi had said, sugaring her tea. "Why put off practicing until you've met the one you're supposed to perfect it with?" It sounded reasonable to Tara, who, being practically old enough for long skirts, took to learning the arts of flirting and kissing with nearly as much grace as she did skating. 

By now, Tara is well aware that, were her Johnny not a boy, she would still not be disappointed; she finds that girls, boys, and the nonbinary can all be equally entertaining to kiss in the shadows of the weeping willow on the Lipinski estate grounds. She has a great deal else to occupy her time, however; her school graduation is approaching, which means studying nearly every spare moment, and spending the rest being fitted for her first long skirts. She'll find Johnny -- or he will find her -- when the time is right.

***

Johnny has absolutely no intention of meeting Tara, not now, not ever. He is perfectly content with his life as it is, thank you: he keeps his soulmark neatly covered by the embroidered cuffs of his fancy attire, and he flirts with everyone who remains still long enough, and he kisses boys in quiet corners of the busy parties he enjoys. Tara is probably a bore, and Johnny simply has no time for bores.

He's at the most fashionable shop in town, getting fitted for slippers -- shoes intended for men are drab and tasteless; Johnny plans to purchase cream satin pumps with a Cuban heel and seed-pearl embellishments -- and trying on various picture hats, when he sees exactly the hat he wants. It's simply _everything_ \-- covered in peacock feathers and dyed flowers, but not so tall that it would overshadow Johnny's own presence. It just happens to be on the head of a fellow customer.

"Excuse me," he says politely into the mirror in which she is admiring herself. "May I ask where you got your hat? I simply _adore_ it."

"Oh, thank you!" says the young woman; she's about his own age, several inches shorter in spite of the tall heels Johnny covets, with glorious wavy blonde hair. "It's not mine -- I was just trying it on." She takes it off, managing not to catch any of the feathers in her tresses, and hands it to Johnny. "I think it will suit you more than it does me, to be honest."

"You're too kind," Johnny replies. He places the hat delicately on top of his head. Whether the young woman's comment was intended as flattery or no, it certainly does suit him; the brilliant blues complement his fair complexion and dark hair perfectly. Pursing his lips, he turns from the mirror to the shelf of hat stands. "I think... this one, for you," he says, picking out a broad-brimmed hat in a pale yellow, with matching cabbage roses around the crown.

"How lovely!" She tries it on, and just as Johnny expected, it picks up the golden highlights in her hair and skin, making her glow. "You're quite good at this! I believe we should be friends."

"I agree!" Johnny takes her hand and bows low to kiss it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss -- ?"

"Lipinski," the young woman says, "Tara Lipinski," and the bottom drops out of Johnny's stomach.

He covers it with a bright smile -- surely there are _dozens_ of young women named Tara in the city. "Johnny Weir, at your service," he says, and Tara's eyes widen.

"Johnny," she repeats, and fumbles at the cuff of her frock's sleeve, where tiny buttons keep it tightly fastened, covering her soulmark. "Oh -- gracious --"

"Allow me." Johnny takes her wrist gently and undoes the buttons, folding back the lacy fabric to reveal his own signature flowing across her skin. He can't hold back a little gasp of recognition.

"Now you," Tara says, her tone slightly peremptory, as though she is accustomed to having her bidding done. Johnny recognizes it as one he frequently adopts himself.

"As you wish." He unbuttons his own cuff, and hears Tara's indrawn breath when her name is revealed, little heart and all. "Yours, I assume?"

"Yes," Tara says. "Well, this is -- unexpected."

"Mr. Weir, if you'll just -- oh!" The shopkeeper clasps her hands in front of her. "Soulmates! Here, in my shop! Oh, you simply must let me dress you both for your wedding!"

"Wedding," Johnny breathes. "Dear God."

"We wouldn't dream of letting anyone else, would we, _darling?_ " Tara has the nerve to pinch the underside of his arm!

"Of course not," Johnny says quickly, adding with all the earnestness he can muster, "This is the finest shop in town, after all." 

"Oh!" The shopkeeper, who has always seemed rather stolid for someone whose business is fripperies, is so delighted that she actually _twirls_. It's all Johnny can do not to let his mouth fall open in shock. "I'm so happy for you! You're going to be the most beautiful couple."

"She's not wrong," Tara murmurs, making Johnny stifle a shocked burst of laughter in his unbuttoned cuff. Perhaps this won't be _terrible._

***

"We should talk," Johnny says, when they've finished purchasing their hats. "May I escort you to lunch, Miss Lipinski?"

"Please, call me Tara. We should be on familiar terms," Tara says, taking his arm. "And yes, that would be lovely."

The host at the restaurant recognizes Johnny, greeting him with a smile and a wink and leading them to a table out of the way. Tara allows Johnny to seat her, then waits for him to begin.

"This is a mistake," he says finally. "I don't like women."

Potential responses flit through Tara's mind like butterflies. Finally, just as Johnny takes a sip of water, she settles on widening her eyes and saying, "Really? I do."

Johnny narrowly avoids spitting water across the table in surprise. "You do? Then how...?" He gestures to first his wrist, then hers. "If we can't -- well -- make each other happy?"

"But you do make me happy," Tara points out, "and we've only just met. Perhaps we're not well-suited for the bedroom, but that's hardly all a marriage is."

"Hmm." Johnny taps his chin with his fingers. "I imagine we'd host the very best parties."

"We would," Tara agrees. "Between us, I assume we know the whole _ton_."

"I'm sure that's so." Johnny sips his water. "And we could - that is to say, neither of us would be offended if --"

"-- we sought additional companionship elsewhere?" Tara suggests delicately. "Why, I'm sure that as long as we were discreet, there would be nothing to chide us for."

"I can learn to be discreet," Johnny promises. He's sure he can, if he puts his mind to it.

"Good." Tara favors him with a brilliant smile. "Then I shall be as pleased to marry you as I have been to make your acquaintance."

In reply, Johnny kisses the back of her hand, making her giggle. "I shall have the finest ring imaginable made for you," he informs her. "Nothing but the best for my bride."

"I do love diamonds," she says thoughtfully.

"As do I!" All in all, Johnny decides, this has been a most successful shopping trip.

**Author's Note:**

> here they are together: [the beautiful couple](https://imgur.com/a/HHBlZ)


End file.
